


Coalescence

by LadyMikaelson



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A lot of bickering., A lot of feels., A lot of teasing., Attempted Sexual Assault, F/F, F/M, Feyre is an artist - of course., M/M, Nessian College AU., Rated mature due violence and sexual content., Sisters bonding., Song based.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-11-29 06:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMikaelson/pseuds/LadyMikaelson
Summary: Coalescence is defined as the process of joining to form something or to bond, or the union of two things in one completely new and unique in which the original parts are still recognizable. It’s also the term used to describe the union of two galaxies.Hiatus!





	1. I.

**Part ONE**

 

_He said he need a bad bitch with an alibi_

 

**I.**

The chair felt too cold, even with the balmy weather of spring. Her ears followed the sounds of many voices, unconsciously gathering the new informations about the case. Audiences from the Disciplinary Committee weren’t exactly a popular activity, but, apparently, everyone and anyone who cared about the College’s position in the national ranking of football decided to show up and take a good look by themselves.

Feyre sifted in her own chair for the millionth time, dragging her eyes from the spot Nesta has been staring since she entered the room. It was a neutral spot, right in front of the table the ‘judges’ would be reunited, the line between the dark carpet and the wooden floor, a safe spot that would help her to focus her attention in her hearing instead of her vision. If she was supposed to care, of course.

“Can you stop it?” Nesta spoke without looking at Feyre again, she could hear the sound of her sister chewing her nails.

“How are you not nervous? He can be expelled!” Her sister’s voice was colored with worry and it made her give her a small eyeroll.

“Why would I be?” The nonchalant tone was real enough that Feyre’s eyes shimmered with disbelief. She opened her mouth to reply, but the head of the Disciplinary Committee decided to approach her seat, bringing with her the football coach and two professors that Nesta didn’t know.

She felt him, even if her eyes were now checking the woman who held his fate in her bony hands. She had a dark, ebony hair, pulled tight in a bun, her clothes were black, from the blazer to her shoes and she seemed to be confident of her function. Good, Nesta admired strong women.

Cassian walked past the crowd, his brother (sort of) and co-captain Rhysand by his side until the front of the table, where only one chair was waiting. The place had been built in a way that the official table and the accused chair were in front of each other, while the seats for the crowd remained in one of the sides of them, allowing a side view of the situation. In the moment he sat, the woman rose to her feet and started her speech.

“Today, the Disciplinary Committee is reunited to discuss the case of mister Cassian Enalius, accused of stealing three of our champion’s cups, seven nights ago. It’s known that as captain, mister Enalius has unlimited access to all the training areas, including a private key. MisterEnalius hadn’t provided, so far, an explanation of his whereabouts that night and the last witness declared that she saw him getting inside the trophy room, but didn’t see him leaving. It was confirmed that Mister Enalius’ key is able to open the lock of the trophy showcase.” 

There was no sound in the crowd as the woman spoke, clear and steady. His accusations were serious, as Nesta thought it would be, but Feyre had assured her - over and over - that Cassian didn’t have anything with the missing trophies, and, at least to herself, Nesta could admit that she didn’t think he was guilt. A memory flashed in her mind, pulling her from the scene in front of her for one moment.

_Feyre’s yelp was louder than anything she had heard before, it curled around her bones and made her insides sick. Her senses were blurred by the alcohol and she stumbled forward in the direction of the sound. It has been only for five minutes, five minutes when Nesta lost her track on Feyre to take Elain to the bathroom and then putting her in a cab back home. Apparently, five minutes were too much._

_The scene in front of her caused a shiver in her spine, her hands clenched in fists and her tipsy state  was replaced for some alert awareness in one blink of eye. A man, red haired and with broad shoulders, was putting his dirty tongue inside her sister’s very reluctant mouth._

_“Hey! You!” Nesta barked out, yelling the words above the music, heading in their direction as an untamed storm. She would use her high heels to pierce his eyes if she needed to._

_Another tall, ginger figured emerged in her path, the same paleness in his skin, and he looked about one step to collapse in alcoholic coma. He had the nerve to smile at her._

_“Don’t worry, love, I can take care of you.” His words were muffled, confused enough to make her pause for one second, but his eyes told enough of his intentions._

_“Get the fuck out of my way.” The ice in her voice would be able to freeze the world, but the man just reached for her, trying to get a grip in her arm, forcing her two steps back._

_“Nesta?” The familiar voice came from close behind and the relief that filled her was otherworldly._

_She turned to him in time to see the image sink in, the gears inside his mind working as fast as his almost drunk state allowed. The next thing she saw was Feyre stumbling to her open arms and Nesta caught her as she could, trying to keep them from falling. Cassian was shaking his hand mightily and the older’s gaze followed the line of his eyes to where the red haired man laid, completely unconscious._

_Maybe, just maybe, her eyes were wide in shock. Everything was too much at once, seeing her sister being somehow abused, hearing her sobs in her neck, holding her as her body shivered uncontrollably. Nesta saw his eyes, his bourbon, expressive eyes and she knew they were safe now, she knew in her bones._

The same eyes were now seeking for her, she could feel the weight of his attention when he finally spotted her in the sixth line and she raised her eyes to meet his, willing to acknowledge his search. Cassian’s face was pale, paler than she had ever seen him and there was genuine preoccupation there. It only lasted one second, that window to his feelings, and then he turned to the people in the table again. Rhysand was now talking in Cassian’s behalf, his blue-violet eyes almost shining with all the honesty and admiration he had for his brother. The other one, Azriel, must have been collecting last minute information, because Nesta couldn’t spot him anywhere.

A few people talked, mostly members of the team who had been with Cassian for almost three years and couldn’t believe he would do such a thing. Their testimony was valuable, but none of them provided an irrefutable evidence, and, talking about the College’s honor, she doubted they would accept anything less.

The minutes became one hour, then two. Her arms had, at some point, been crossed over each other, keeping her hands hidden from everyone. Nesta couldn’t point why exactly she was shaking, it shouldn’t matter, even if she already knew his sentence, she was a major in law school after all. Feyre seemed to notice the flow of the current a few minutes later.

“Do something.” Her little sister whispered, her tone so urgent that her voice failed. 

“Such as?”

“I don’t know, you study law. Fix it.”

“This is not a real court, there’s no lawyers here.”  _It’s not like I could come up with a full defense._  Nesta added in her mind, pursing her lips together to say no more.

“Do something.” Feyre repeated, sounding like she was about to swim in a river of hopelessness.

Without her command, her mind started to recall all her lines of thought, every single solution or path she had designed while conjecturing about the case. There were no possible alternatives, at least no legally – there was one thing, one thing that she could do, but it was insanity and Nesta didn’t like to lose the grip in her control to allow this type of idea to emerge.

Cassian’s head turned to her again, his medium hair flying slightly with the movement, some strands loose from the bun he had made in the nap of his neck. His mouth’s corners were curved down, just like his shoulders, his posture was an indication of defeat, but his eyes called for hers, demanded her to lose herself in him and she saw the sorrow, the longing, the plea for forgiveness.

He had told her, back in her sophomore year, that he would always be there for her, she only needed to say yes. Back then, she thought he was too beyond coherence to mean that and he never brought the subject up again in almost one year, but the way he was looking at her now –

Nesta stood, a surprising movement. Her mask of pure boredom was so sharp after years of perfecting it, that the gaze of maybe two hundred of people were not enough to make her balk. She looked straight to the dark haired woman, ignoring everyone else as they were nothing but dust at her feet.

“I’m Nesta Archeron and this audience is so tedious that I can’t figure how half of you aren’t in the middle of a nap. Cassian couldn’t be at the trophy room because he was with me.”

The sounds started even before her last word, echoing the surprise and the disbelief. Alright, Nesta, now you’ve got their attention, not going back from the hole you’re gonna put yourself into.

“Is that so?” The woman asked and the condescendence in her voice had Nesta narrowing her eyes.

“Yes. Cassian and I have been seen each other, he was at my house that night.”

“For what activities? Be specific.”

Nesta allowed a dirty, uncommon smirk to tug in her lips, allowed the small shift in her posture that pushed her breasts forward and relaxed her shoulders, showing exactly what he had been there for.

“Do you want details?” Her voice was lower than before, showing a confidence she didn’t feel. “We started with him pushing me against the front door, his hands reaching for my–”

“No that type of specificity, miss Acheron.” The woman cut her.

Half of the crowd was laughing, including the coach, the other half was too shocked to react. Nesta wasn’t exactly the most open person, indeed, she earned the nickname some of them used to refer to her. Ice queen.

Slowly, her eyes met Cassian’s and she noticed how strong his grip was in the sides of his chair, how fierceful he was fighting to keep the surprise out of his face, even if he was failing it.  _Play along_ , she wanted to yell to him.

“There’s anyone else who can confirm your story?”

_Do I look like a woman who enjoys sharing in bed?_  She fought the urge to form the gross sentence that flashed in her mind, aware that it wouldn’t help her, or Cassian. Even if she managed to keep the arrogant words inside, her eyes were made of pure superiority.  

“I only live with my two sisters, Elain had a botany class at night to observe some weird flower and Feyre slept in her boyfriend’s house, so no, there’s no one but me.”

“How timely!” And there was a hint of sarcasm in the woman’s voice when she looked suspiciously at Cassian. “Why haven’t you said anything about it?”

“She threatened to freeze my balls if I tell anyone a word about our relationship.” He glanced a look at her when he responded, a fond look, and it really sounded like something Nesta would have said.

Again, many chuckles filled the place.

“Did you decide, then, that your relationship with her was worth to be expelled?”

“I never thought it would come so far, ma’am, I assumed the truth would show up eventually.”

Even so, the woman looked less than convinced and Nesta knew she would lose if she didn’t come with something else. The only time she had to think was now, while the coach tried to ease the head of the Disciplinary Committee somehow, leaning close to murmur some words. 

“Cass, what was I wearing that night? When you met me right after practice?” It was a risky move, a last shot that could be his salvation or the last nail in his coffin.

Feyre had always harassed her about how Cassian couldn’t tear his eyes away from her whenever she entered in a room, how he looked as if he had been hit by a truck. For once in her life, she wanted Feyre to be right. 

A light sparkled in Cassian’s eyes and he looked solely to her as he started to speak. “You were in a pale blue sweater and dark, tight jeans that hugged all your curves, your hair was loose, failing in your back in perfect waves and you had something in your eyelashes, something that made them darker and provocative and when you looked at me from under your lashes I thought I would combust.”

The air left Nesta’s lungs and she couldn’t find a way to convince her body to breath in, her hands started to shake and her knees felt weak. It wasn’t a simple statement of what she was wearing, it was a full declaration of worship. The blush that crept in her cheeks was completely real and she felt her world narrow to his form, his last words echoing in her mind.

“What was this question for, miss Acheron?” The woman demanded and Nesta almost told her to shut the fuck up, the moment killed by her interruption.

Steeling herself, Nesta answered. “Seven days ago, I was part of a Symposium, one of my case studies was part of the presentation, and Cassian stayed until the very end, even if his training was supposed to start. And, only when I finished my small speech, he left to do some practice. Afterwards, he met me in home so we could celebrate my award.” Her natural confidence and aloofness started to slip to her words, as if it all was too obvious. “I happen to have a picture, right beside the poster, with the same clothes he described. And, of course, the event only lasted one day, so there’s no other day it could have been taken.”

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Feyre’s smile.

“Permission to approach.” She inquired, reaching for her phone in her back pocket, digits already working to find the picture. 

“Allowed.” 

Nesta’s flats made no sound in the wooden floor and she wondered if her heartbeat was loud enough to be heard by someone else. If they discovered, she would be expelled too, and as far as she knew, he could have stolen that stupid things, right? One look at Cassian told her he couldn’t, he wouldn’t and he was astonished with the twist of the events.

Handing out her phone, Nesta only waited for what felt like forever. 

“It’s definitely from the right day, if we only had a picture of Cassian in the crowd, watching you…” The coach trailed off, eyes searching for help between all of those in their seats.

It was a fuss, almost everyone in the crowd finding their phones to check for pictures of that day. People could say a lot of bad things about the Velaris University, but no one could ever say that they didn’t know how to team up when they needed and it was pretty clear that without Cassian, their best player and team co-captain, there was no way for them to win the championship and everyone, even Nesta, wanted to see those Hybern pricks failing.

One minute was all it took and phones fumbled in the wooden desk, pictures where Cassian could be seen in the crowd throughout the event.

“Here we go.” The coach approved. “Now I want to see that little pieces of shit from Vanserra University to fu–”

“Coach!” The woman interjected before he could finish the line.

Many in the crowd nodded, echoing the coach’s thoughts, the same thoughts Feyre had. It was a scheme, they set it up to get him off of the field, it’s so obvious, her sister’s voice was still fresh in her memory.

Without further commentaries, the woman-boss stood up, handing Nesta’s phone back to her in person.

“This audience has come to an end. You’re under an advertence, mister Enalius, it can be over in a few days or take weeks, depending on your behavior.” She turned to face Nesta again. “You’ll be watched too, miss Archeron, if your claim about the relationship is real, you don’t need to worry.“ 

Nesta considered giving her a smile, but decided against it, there wasn’t a way that she would not look smug and her steady, cool looks served her better.  Walking back, she took Feyre by the elbow, Cassian would find her after all that fuss of congratulations, he always had.

***

Rhysand found them first, kissing Feyre so intimately that Nesta had to look away. No one would be good enough for her sisters, never, but Rhysand was a close match, much better that the prick Feyre dated before him, a blonde, controlling man that couldn’t stand Feyre’s independence.

She leaned against the wall, blocking the sounds of their whispered words and trying her best to not be overwhelmed by everything she had felt in the past minutes. It was a stupid move, a genuinely stupid move that could put her academic life in check. She needed this degree, she couldn’t risk it for some random guy. He didn’t mean anything, he never did.

“Don’t do that.” Feyre said softly and her eyes snapped to her sister’s out streched hand, as if she would touch Nesta, but decided against. “Don’t reconsider.”

“What you did, Nesta, I can’t find a way to thank you.” Rhysand interjected.

Nesta opened her mouth to reply, but a form called her attention. He was rushing for them, hair loose and palms sweating.

Cassian only stopped when he was in front of her, one step between their bodies, the air leaving his nostrils sharply. There was such intensity on his posture, on his heat and eyes and his very self, that her sister and his brother averted their gazes.

“Don’t.” Nesta raised her hand, palm turned to him, before he could speak, before he could thank her, but Cassian ignored it.

“I need to, what you did there. You saved me, Nesta, I should thank you with all I have.” The way his eyes were glimmering told her more than his words, she could see what it meant to him, what she meant to him.

“Several months ago, you saved my sister, I’m only paying a debt, nothing more.” There was steel again in her voice and Nesta’s face showed nothing but calm.

“If you wanted to pay me, sweetheart, I could have found some other ways.” His mouth’s corners pulled up in a seductive smile and she swore that his muscles flicked under his black shirt.

Nesta crossed her arms, sending him a look of pure disgust, her scowl was so deep that it could have been seen from the main corridor.

“You just kept your boyfriend from being expelled, you should look happy.” Feyre cut in, looking more than pleased with the situation.

“I never said boyfriend.” Nesta retorted immediately.

“Oh, I can be your fuck boy, I don’t mind.” Cassian smiled, his eyes shining with amusement, much for Rhysand’s and Feyre’s own smirks.

Before Nesta’s temper could get worse in front of all the people passing by, Rhysand offered them all a drive, so, at least, Nesta could scowl at Cassian inside the car.


	2. II.

She leaned in her seat, pen held in her right hand, waiting to slide over the paper as she followed the teacher’s words. This was the best and the worst class she was assigned so far, it was interesting but complex and challenging. At least she had a good study partner.

Thomas moved in his chair, closer to see Nesta’s notes. His dark hair caught the light, as it always had done, and she didn’t shift her focus while he wrote in his own book of notes.

They had met last semester in their criminal law class and, different from many of the guys that had their eyes on her, he didn’t scare easy. It took two group studies and a ride home to get her talking with him about something else other than law, more three rides until she invited him to her apartment, one more to get Thomas inside her bedroom.

Easily, they fell into an uncomplicated rhythm, agreeing that no one was interested in dating, that they had much work to do and college was commitment enough. The truth was that Nesta didn’t love Thomas, she enjoyed spending some time with him, the sex was good, he was smart enough to keep her entertained afterwards and they could share opinions and notes about their classes. And, of course, they could see other people.

Nesta bit her lip, her mind drifting for a moment from the new topic in criminal law - part 2 out 3. Did Thomas know about her statement last week? They certainly didn’t text and with the last month spent doing semestral exams they had barely seen each other, except for studying.

The exams were over and if he thought that they would be back in their old routine…

The professor clapped, a sure (and exclusive) sign that the class was over. She had taken notes absently the last few minutes, her pen moving automatically when her focus was elsewhere.

“Maybe we could get pizza tonight. We can go to Rita’s or order something at my place.” Thomas said, throwing his belongings inside his black leather bag. “Or not, maybe you have other plans.” He added when she didn’t reply.

“I promised Elain that she could pick a movie tonight, you know how much she loves rom com.” The blonde answered, making her way to the door, right beside him, but not touching.

Sometimes, Thomas would put his hand on her lower back, usually the day after they slept together, knowing that Nesta wouldn’t refuse that, even if she usually refused physical contact in an affectionate manner.

“Yeah, of course, for Elain.” He said, as if suspecting that she secretly liked them too.

She was almost rolling her eyes at him, a small hint of amusement in her features, when she spotted Cassian leaning against the opposite wall, his arms crossed over the muscled chest, eyes glowering at the man by her side. Nesta’s own eyes widened and she made sure to throw Cassian a warning look, even if he wasn’t looking at her.

The first thought in her head was to ignore. She could ignore both of them and just keep walking, she had no reason to explain herself. Thomas hadn’t ask about the last events anyway, why had Cassian come and shown it right under Thomas nose? She could, easily, never mention Cassian to Thomas and after a few weeks life would go back to normal, her stupid decisions forgotten. Right?

Reality crashed over her, though, when she realized that a few eyes were on them, and the small conflict that could erupt. lt was no secret that Nesta and Thomas hung out from time to time and now, with the announcement of her relationship in such a public manner…

It made her act, the need to keep one more mask. She moved in Cassian’s direction, leaving Thomas’s side to stand between both.

“Thomas, Cassian. Cassian, Thomas.” Nesta introduced in a neutral voice and Cassian dared to smirk, his eyes drifting up and down, as if he was sizing up an opponent.

“The boyfriend.” Cassian said, his voice a rumble of certainty and he stretched his hand out.

“Heard about that.” Thomas accepted his hand.

Apparently, Cassian could be civilized, much to Nesta’s surprised. He didn’t give any arrogant replies and his hand shake was brief, lasting for a few seconds before Cassian turned to Nesta, facing her with badly hidden amusement in his expression.

Now, right here, he would show everyone she was his by pulling her to his side or simply showing that stupid male dominance that Feyre’s ex-boyfriend, Tamlin, loved demonstrating in public, submitting her, treating her like an object, a thing with an owner. Right here he would smash any real chances he had with Nesta, even if she would never acknowledge that the consideration of fake dating cassian wasn’t completely unpleasant.

Slowly, Cassian’s expression melted and he stared at her, almost like he could read the feelings on her face. She was sure he couldn’t, she wasn’t showing anything, her face a perfect mask of indifference, so believable that the people passing by had already lost their interest.

“Can I help you with your books?” Cassian asked, his hands in the middle of them, ready to receive the two books.

“Yes.” Of course, she could be civilized as well. “See you, Thomas.”

“Yeah, same time for your drive.” Her former date said with a hint of provocation that hit the spot precisely.

Cassian’s body flicked, tension clear in his muscles and he clasped his lips together, avoiding himself from saying anything while they watched Thomas go.

Nesta started to walk the other way, following a known path to the library. It took half a second to have Cassian at her side, following easily with his long legs. If she was willing to notice, he was very tall, at least twenty centimeters taller than her and she wasn’t exactly small, maybe that explained why he was so good at football, with the muscles and everything. She side-eyed him, taking note of his loose jeans and simple Metallica shirt, his sporty bag thrown over one of his shoulders, his hair a soft mess of black.

Her eyes were back to their path before he could notice and Nesta simply waited, a model of serenity and coolness besides a furnace of restlessness and strength, she knew by the way he passed his hands on his hair, right after tucking her books under one arm, that he was struggling with words, like the brute he was.

They were two corridors before the library when Cassian finally opened his mouth… Only to close it again. Nesta was very tempted to catch her books and move away, leave him alone with his own matters to solve – and he was starting to blush, getting pissed with himself for losing the opportunity to say god knows what, she could see all his suffering from the corner of her eye and she did nothing to help, at least not consciously. Their walking rhythm slowed, as if she was buying him time to spill it out.

“I – My team is going to throw a party friday night, no, not a party, more like reunion, it’s a celebration, yes, a celebration for… Well, for me, for having me back on the team and I can’t stop thinking that it’s for you too, somehow. So I would like to know, I was wondering, if you would come?”

His words came in a rush, so fast that he let out a shaky breath when he finished, looking about to hit himself. A image emerged in her mind, one of Cassian in front of a mirror, practicing the words he would tell her, the perfect words to convince her to go and stop fighting him at every opportunity.

Nesta kept the slower pace, her head cocking slightly to one side when she acknowledged his words. She wasn’t surprised. Feyre couldn’t shut up about the party the ‘boys’ would be throwing to celebrate and how she was helping Mor with the organization, how they were paying her to do a special painting of the team, with Cassian and Rhys, as captains, in the middle so they could hang it in their chilling area and bla bla. Feyre had even recruited Elain to make sure Nesta wouldn’t have ways to say no to the party.

“Is there a dress code?” She asked, glancing up to look at his face.

For a moment, Cassian looked like a gaping-fish, his eyes wide and his mouth loose with shock. For his credit, Cassian recovered spectacularly fast and his smile grew so big that she thought it would reach his ears.

“No, whatever you want to wear. It’ll start at 10pm, I can pick you up if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. Feyre is going, so I suppose I’ll have to drive her there anyways.”

“Alright, perfect, yeah.” Cassian’s smile didn’t attenuate and his voice was the perfect reflection of his very happy face.

They walked in silence for maybe two minutes more before Cassian walked with her inside the library, literally pulling her chair out of the table and only leaving when she was settled with all her belongings. Nesta caught herself, a lot after, wondering how he could look like such a tough guy and act like his heart was made of jelly.

***

When she pushed their apartment door open later that day and distinguished the scent of painting, she knew she was entering a dangerous zone, with high risk of staining her favorite skirt and stumbling on Feyre’s mess.

They had had thousands of discussions over the reasons why being a major in art doesn’t give Feyre the right to use their common areas as a studio and, as Nesta had won the kitchen and the corridors, Feyre got a huge space in the living room to do her works. Of course, the main idea when they moved in was to use the outside space for such things, but between Elain’s plants and the changing weather, it would be impossible for Feyre to have half of her must-do college tasks done.

At least, Feyre remembered covering their mahogany floor this time.

Nesta stepped carefully, leaving her keys in the small bowl besides the door, along with their car keys. Theirs, as in Elain’s and hers, since Feyre couldn’t drive and they lived in an apartment that was a twenty minutes walk from college. She risked a look to her sister, her hair a mess atop her head, hands covered in paint, apron in need of cleaning.

“Hey, Nesta. What do you think? I’m practicing for my new class.” Feyre barely took her eyes from the painting, maybe, she wouldn’t have asked if she had noticed the frown in Nesta’s forehead.

“Is it me?” The older asked, an uncertain tone in her voice. She never made secret that she wasn’t a fan of art, but she tried, from time to time, visit some of Feyre’s exhibitions, just to give moral support or whatever Elain says.

“Yes! Cool, right? The professor told us to paint something cold.” A laughter started deep in her sister’s throat and she rolled her eyes, a hiss of indignation leaving her mouth.

“It looks deformed and twisted.” The cold, indeed, reached Nesta’s voice when she answered.

“It’s called cubism, it’s supposed to be like that.” Feyre retorted sarcastically.

“So it looks perfect.”

Nesta swore that Feyre poked her tongue out to her when she turned to untie her shoes. Such a child.

She grabbed a glass of juice and started to put the clean dishes back in their place, trying to keep some organization… The door was closed violently and Nesta jumped, her head snapping in time to see Elain’s quick form darting to her room, her bedroom’s door following the abrupt closing.

“What the hell?” Feyre muted, a splash of paint covering part of her shoulder and arm, a result of her shock.

In two seconds, both sisters were rushing to Elain’s door, Feyre with a confused expression while Nesta was already boiling in anger. There was only one person who could provoke this type of reaction on Elain and there was a reason he hated Nesta from deep in his heart and the feeling was mutual.

They exchanged a concerned look, clearly having the same idea. Elain hadn’t said anything about meeting Graysen tonight and she usually couldn’t shut up about how incredible he was, how he made her feel like a princess, how he was beautiful and smart and beautiful again. Usually, she would tell Feyre more details than she tells Nesta, simply because Feyre didn’t antagonized him – at least not so much.

Feyre raised her hand, knuckles tapping the door slowly. A sob was their only answer, enough to make Nesta open the door without a second warning, but she didn’t get inside the room, neither of them did when they saw Elain sat on her bed, dozens of pictures in her lap, already wet from the river of tears leaving her brown eyes.

“Hey, Elain.” Feyre tried softly, moving one step forward. “What’s going on? 

Nesta moved through threshold to keep a clear view of the situation, her heart lost a beat when she noticed the lack of one special thing that should be around Elain’s neck. Graysen had given her a ring that, according to him, had been in his family for centuries. When the man found the woman they want to be for the rest of their life, they would give them the ring (that will after become their wedding ring) to be worn with a golden chain around the neck, like a necklace, where the pendant is the symbol of their promise or whatever.

Of course, Nesta always thought it was bullshit, but Elain marvelled at the ring day and night, loved it as much as she loved Graysen. They were together for almost one year now and he gave her that for their first ‘monthversary’.

When Elain raised her head to look at Feyre, her face was a mask of despair, utter heart-breaking despair, crafted with equal doses of agony and hopelessness. She opened her mouth to talk, but only a strangled noise left her body and she started to shiver even more violently.

Feyre was hugging her in the next second, wrapping her arms tightly around her slim body and Nesta came close, hovering over both of them like a hawk. She had to dig her nails into her palms to stop the urge to find Graysen and destroy him, wreck him so throughout that he would be nothing more than a shell, a ghost of who he once was.

It took a long time for Elain’s cries to diminish in shaky intakes of breath, her body still quivering from time to time, one of her hands reaching constantly in her neck’s direction, used to playing with something that was no longer there. Elain took a look at Feyre’s compassionate expression, then at Nesta’s unattainable one, trying to steady herself, to collect some of the pieces Graysen had shattered.

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Feyre questioned quietly, hands caressing Elain’s hair in steady and calm movements.

“I told him I wasn’t ready – ready to sleep with him.” Elain’s voice was barely a whisper and Nesta had to read her lips.

“I thought that he had agreed to wait for you until your first anniversary.” Feyre replied, confused.

In matters of sex, all of them had made very different decisions and were honest with each other about it. Feyre had lost her virginity at her high school prom, with a boyfriend-ish- same age as her- that she was used to make out for a few months under the bleachers of the gymnasium and they were together for weeks before Feyre moved to Velaris to live with her older sisters. Nesta had never liked someone to the point of wanting sex, so one night, two days before she moved to Velaris, after one year of preparatory course for law school, she went to a bar, picked the most attractive guy she could find and slept with him just to be done with it. She never called him, even if he made sure to give her his real number. But Elain, Elain was different.

She was kind and loving and wanted her first time to be with someone special, someone who could make her feel like the woman of his life, future mother of his children. She wanted to be loved, she deserved that more than anyone. Her gentle heart was a pure, fragile and rare thing.  

“Yes, I had agreed with that before but…” Her already red face became even more coloured with embarrassment. “I told him I would not be ready, that I needed more time.”

“That’s nothing wrong with that, Elain. It’s your body, you’re the only person who gets to choose.” Hearing the reassurance in Feyre’s tone, Nesta nodded emphatically, keeping her mouth shut to not spill venom about Graysen.

“But, but – he said I was lying.” Elain’s voice reached a pitch and the tears started to roll down her angelical face again. “He said the reason I didn’t want to sleep with him was because he would see my lie, he would see that I was just deceiving him all this time. I would never deceive him!”

“What a dick!” Feyre exclaimed at the same time that Nesta said, in a terrifying voice: “He’s a dead man.”

The colour had completely drained from Nesta’s face, she was as pale as a ghost while her mind worked frenetically, all blood redirected to her limbs, her body getting ready as if she was in a fight or flight situation. That were so much wrath in her system now that her vision was reduced to her sisters in front of her, while her brain pulled every single information about Graysen she had archived. She wanted to see him suffer.  How the fuck did he dare to say such things for a woman who did nothing but loving him for eleven months?

“ _Nesta_.” Elain’s voice coaxed her out her thoughts and she realized that she was slowly approaching the exit, her hands in fists. “Promise me you’re not going to do anything.” She turned to Feyre. “You too.”

There was fear in her doe eyes, fear that her sisters would do anything to harm Graysen or his patrimony. Feyre would probably provide a suggestion about how to destroy his car, while Nesta, well, she’d been in law school for three years, she knew some interesting people who could guarantee Graysen a night in prison just to give him a taste of how bad life can be. Without mention Nesta and Rhysand’s scary friend, Amren – the woman could do things.

“Promise me.” She begged, face stained with tears.

Nesta and Feyre exchanged a look, a look that was an agreement that no matter what they promised to Elain, if he ever tried to get close to her…

“I promise.” The youngest spoke.

“For you, Elain.” Nesta complemented, leaning on the side of the wardrobe.

Her sister wiped the tears with the back of her hand, trying to look better, failing in form a smile.

“You only need a distraction, trust me. 

And on these matters, Feyre was a specialist after Tamlin. Nesta started to wonder if they were in some sort of competition to see who the most stupid boyfriend a girl could have was. It was a fierce dispute.

“We could start your driving lessons. It’s Saturday after tomorrow, Nesta is free and so am I.” Elain suggested after some thinking and Nesta cringed.

“When your distraction became my torment?”

“I’m right here!” Feyre complained, one of her hands holding Elain’s while the other still brushed her sister’s hair.

“You taught me, Nesta.”

Nesta blinked slowly, as if she was intensely hurt with the mere thought of doing it all over again, with a much more complicated person to follow orders. 

“Your most essential characteristic is not being stubborn.” 

“Again, I’m right here!” The youngest said in an exasperated tone.

Elain pulled her hand to clap them together.  “So it’s settled, Feyre’s lessons in our car will start on Saturday.”

“For _you_ , Elain.” Nesta repeated in a tone that was a mixture of suffering and annoyance.

For the second time that night, Feyre poked out her tongue to her and instead of movies of rom com they ended up watching some action movie, full of explosions and shots and blood splashes.


	3. III.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post last night, soooooorry.  
> I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> You can anso read on tumblr, babes, http://herpowerisdeath.tumblr.com/tagged/coalescence

Nesta started her Friday like any other Friday, except for the eleven text messages Feyre had sent her by lunchtime, to make sure she wasn’t having any second thoughts about the party. No, Nesta had replied, she wasn’t, the only second thoughts in her head concerned punching Graysen in the face.

Her only class was in the morning, which gave her enough free time to clean the house and hunt for stains of paint to complain about in Feyre’s ears later. Luckily for her sister, she didn’t find any and had a great time reading a nice book after cooking lunch. Nesta wasn’t a good cook, but she could survive and usually Elain would make food enough for dinner and the next day’s lunch, but after what happened last night…  

She rolled over onto her belly on her bed, opened her notebook, just to check a few things – like Graysen’s Social Medias. If he was already seeing someone or partying she would not be held responsible for her actions.  

After an hour or so, stalking him and his closest friends like the control freak she deep down knew she was, Nesta had found a whole lot of nothing. Not even a mention on Facebook, not even a picture liked on Instagram, not even a retweet about his recent break up or what he was currently doing. The only thing he posted was a complaining about some administration paper he had to write and she couldn’t care less.  

Her phone vibrated and she rolled her eyes, ready to tell Feyre again that she was really going when she saw the name on the screen. Cassian. He had texted once, after the terrible incident with Feyre at the party, to know how they were doing and if they needed anything, and that was it, she never gave a reason for him to text her again.  

A small touch of curiosity scratched her insides and she opened the message.  

 

Cassian: Hey!

Cassian: It’s Cass, in case you don’t have my number.  

Cassian: I was wondering if you have any preference for drinks?  

Cassian: We’re buying everything now.  

 

Nesta: I’ll be driving tonight.  

Nesta: ps. I had your number.

 

Cassian: Yeah, sure.  

Cassian: You told me that.  

 

Nesta read his reply, nodding to herself. She rested her phone beside herself and went back to her book. She had abruptly stopped in the middle of the page when the thought of stalking Graysen had come to mind.  

Elain had been impressively strong this morning, waking up early and following her daily tasks with all the courage and attention she could gather. Her eyes were still puffy and red, her hair tied in a ponytail, so she wouldn’t need to worry about it and she had chosen the darkest and most sad combination of clothes that Nesta had seen her wear in her whole life, but she was dealing with the situation in an almost healthy way. _Crying is part of the process_ , Feyre had said last night, but both of them hated to see Elain crying. At least, when she left Nesta at her class, she didn’t look like she was about to crumble.  

Her phone vibrated once again.  

Cassian: See you tonight, Ness.  

 

Nesta: Don’t call me that.  

 

Cassian: As you wish, sweetheart.  

 

Her eye roll was epic, ‘sweetheart’ was not better than ‘Ness’, but it didn’t look like a battle to be fought in texts, so she forced herself to go back to her book and read until late afternoon.  

 

***   

_Murder is not an option, murder is not an option, murder is not an option_. Nesta repeated in her head over and over and over while Feyre was freaking out over looking “spectacular” for Rhysand. Elain, even though she had decided not to go to the party, was helping her with some messy-but-perfect-hair aesthetic.  

Feyre had been dating Rhysand for more than a semester and Nesta honestly thought that if he hadn’t given up on her after seeing her in loose clothes with dirty hair and covered in paint and clay-like she had while she’d been doing her finals exams-it would never happen. Of course, she kept it to herself, enjoying Feyre’s rush a little more than she should – while Feyre worried over herself, she couldn’t annoy Nesta.  

With all the calm in the world, Nesta showered at 8:30pm, she wanted time to dry her hair and use some heat to make delicate waves that flowed down her shoulders. She opened her closet and selected a pair of tight black jeans with leather details on the back pockets, a nice white blouse that fell off one shoulder and shimmered faintly in the light and some navy blue high heels. The weather was cold enough to consider a coat or jacket, even if her blouse had long sleeves.  

She made her way to the bathroom to get her foundation in time to see Feyre wearing her black dress.  

“Excuse you.” Nesta called out, following her into Elain’s room, where her middle sister was choosing Feyre’s makeup tones.  

“C’mon, you’re not gonna wear that tonight.”  

“Why?” Feyre asked, her voice falsely innocent.  

“Because it’s too cold and you know that. Go cover your legs.”  

“But the dress looks amazing on her, Nesta. Look!” Elain tried, blinking her long lashes tentatively.

Nesta let out a breath, knowing that the two of them had already planned all this, trying to stop herself for being mad before it started. Indeed, her dress looked good on Feyre, they usually used the same size and the detail on the back was made of lace, showing her skin underneath. It really did the trick. Except that it was ten degrees Celsius outside.  

“If you want to freeze, go ahead, I don’t care, but do not drop alcohol on my dress.” Was all she said before turning around and going back to her room to put some makeup on.  

At precisely 9:50pm, Nesta was ready, absently scrolling her Instagram feed and waiting for Feyre. Her sister had started 30 minutes before her and had never been so fussy about clothes or accessories. She was usually the type of girl who felt secure with her own choices and didn’t want to please anyone, but apparently tonight was going to be some big night for her-not that she’d mentioned it.  

It took two threats of leaving her behind and one sharp look from Nesta to make Feyre grab a warmer coat and get them out of the apartment, thirty minutes after Nesta being ready. She couldn’t stop shooting angry glares in her sister’s direction, even if she was very pretty with natural but well done makeup and nude heels that worked perfectly with _her_ dress. Maybe Nesta would have complimented her if they weren’t already late.  

A light raining started as she drove to the address Rhysand had sent, going to the opposite side of the college. The party was at the house of one of their friends who technically was part of the swimming team and it only took fifteen minutes to get there, the music calling them from blocks away.  

Nesta parked behind a few other cars, taking a look at the house with wide eyes as she closed the driver’s door.  

“I know” Feyre sighed “I drooled the first time I saw his pool. Tarquin’s father has a diamond business and he is the heir of everything.” she explained, walking around the car to step onto the sidewalk.

Quickly, Nesta’s eyes-the only part of her neutral mask that showed her emotions-went back to normal, hiding her surprise and awe. It was a beautiful house, with floor-to-ceiling windows, tones of green and blue covering its outside walls, the architecture modern and clean.  

Feyre linked her arm through Nesta’s, pulling her closer, probably to steal a little bit of her body heat as they walked towards the house. A group of guys wearing the team jacket were on the front stairs, talking and laughing, cups filled with beer already in hand. They smiled and greeted Feyre by her name, making some commentaries about where to find Rhysand. Nesta noticed, with no little amount of surprise, that they smiled at her _too_. She made an effort to at least direct a little smirk at them.  

Luckily, Feyre started to walk again, heading to the inside of the house, where the music became two times louder. The electronic beat filled her ears and her veins and Nesta followed Feyre through the crowd. Apparently, her sister knew half of the party and the team members treated her with affection and respect. They also waved and smiled to Nesta all the time, making her feel frankly uncomfortable. It was like everyone already knew her somehow and she didn’t know anyone back.  

“They’re like a family, the team.” Feyre was saying, her voice half swallowed by the music. “They already like you, for helping Cassian, just don’t do anything to change their opinion.”  

“What makes you think I need anyone here liking me?” Nesta snapped automatically, stopping in the middle of their walking to shoot a warning look to the other.  

“Because people need people, Nesta, it’s how life is and it’s easier if they like you.”  

They stared at each other unblinking, Feyre daring her to retort while Nesta was daring Feyre to say anything else, to give her a reason to walk away from the party and –  

A hand sneaked around Feyre’s waist and Rhysand’s happy face appeared above her shoulder, he dipped his head and kissed the side of her neck kindly. “Hello, Feyre darling.” He raised his eyes. “Nesta, welcome.”  

The older nodded, trying to diminish the faint glow of anger that was certainly in her eyes. Feyre blinked slowly, her hands meeting his while her body lost the tension accumulated to continue their arguing, and she melted against his form, turning her head to see him. The smile on Feyre’s face was almost too bright to look at.  

Nesta averted her gaze, just in time to notice Azriel appearing beside Rhysand, stoically ignoring their “welcome kiss”.  

“Hey, Az!” Feyre greeted, pulling her head back for a minute, but leaning into Rhysand’s touch again even before Azriel’s reply.  

A small blush appeared high on his cheeks and he jerked his chin to Nesta at the same time she started to turn away from the couple. She and Azriel had been caught in the middle of Rhysand and Feyre’s public demonstrations of love many times and they already had a sign to sneak out.  

She followed the man for a few steps, her eyes drinking in the beauty of the house, even with so many bodies spread on couches and chairs and leaning against the tables and walls. Whatever this was, it certainly wasn’t just a celebration with the team members and she felt something like gratitude for Azriel’s quiet presence leading the way.  

He stopped in an open kitchen, opening one of the cabinets to find a bottle of whiskey. He filled his own cup and put it back in place.  

“Keep-the-good-stuff-hidden?” She mused, pouring some soda for herself.  

He shrugged “We want the house to last until morning.”   

“I would have hidden anything breakable.”  

“The whole place, then.” Azriel replied with a cocky grin and Nesta caught herself nodding emphatically.  

They moved to what appeared to be one of the main areas and she stood close to him for two main reasons. One, Azriel always looks scary enough to keep any other guy away. Two, his presence was way more quiet and pleasant than her sister’s and Nesta could enjoy the music with some peace.  

It took her only a moment to realize that his location hadn’t been randomly chosen, his eyes were trailing a direct path to one of the bodies moving on the improvised dance floor. A blonde, curvy woman wearing tight-fitted white jeans and a golden blouse-showing plenty of cleavage as it swooped down the middle of her breasts and joined at the bottom of her rib cage-and dancing with her…  

Nesta’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second when the woman spun and laughed at something Cassian had said. Nesta risked a look at Azriel’s face and he seemed impassable on his watch, his eyes filled with some feeling she had always been too scared to put into words. She felt it, the weight of his look on her as she directed her eyes to the dance floor again and, instantaneously, Cassian was whispering in the blonde’s ear and she stared right into Nesta’s eyes.

For a moment, Nesta felt threatened. It was a stupid feeling to have, even more stupid given her fake dating situation, but whoever she was, she was important, important enough to come along, right beside him, to meet and judge Nesta.  

Of course, the mask of indifference fell into place, her back straightened and she enjoyed her high heels much more for allowing her to look at the other female under her nose.  

Cassian stopped in front of her, calling for her gaze with his. His smile was bigger than a child’s who’d received candy for dinner. Nesta started to follow the hand he had used to guide the blonde with her eyes, only to see if they were still touching before she internally cursed herself, eyes snapping back to his face.  

“Hi, Nesta.” There was some sort of carefulness colouring his voice, some uncertainty that seemed to be the sister of the restlessness he’d shown when he asked her come.  

Nesta opened her mouth to greet him, but was cut off by the blonde’s voice. “That’s her?” and then she looked Nesta all the way up and down and up again, her mouth formed a challenging smile. “I’m Morrigan.”  

“I’m Feyre’s sister.” Nesta answered in an indifferent tone.  

“Obviously.” Morrigan’s tone wasn’t friendly and Nesta’s eyes narrowed a bit more.  

“Play nice, Mor.” Cassian eased her, changing his body so that he was half facing Morrigan and somehow protecting Nesta with his body.  

“I am.” and, in what seemed an effort to ‘play nice’, Morrigan added “I love your blouse by the way; you need to tell me where you brought it.”  

“Fortunately for you, I don’t return the feeling.”  

A laugh exploded in Cassian’s chest and he had to cover his mouth with his forearm. A wicked glow took over Morrigan’s eyes, the tentative kindness gone.  

“I’ll dance with you, Morrigan.” Azriel offered, discarding his now empty cup and looking deeply into her eyes. She turned to face him, mouth twisted with the words kept and solely nodded, leading the way to the dance floor.  

Her gaze dismissed both, finding a more interesting spot inside her soda cup. Nesta wasn’t even sure about what in the hell happened and how Feyre’s friend became her antagonist so quickly, of course, she had a talent to get under people’s skin, but that was unbelievably fast.  

Cassian’s posture changed a little while he moved from one foot to the other, one arm folded behind his head, allowing him to bury his fingers in his hair, messing it all.  

“That was…” He hesitated “Well, not as bad as I thought. Mor is protective with us all, you know.”  

Nesta’s lips were pursed together and she had no intention of replying, her attention traveling around the place, noticing the clean furniture, the rugs that matched the colour of sea foam, the small, white shells used to decorate the sides of a table. She wondered for a moment if the owner loved the ocean waves as much as it looked like from the details of his house.  

“I heard there’s a pool.” She heard herself saying in a blank tone, a safe line to break the tension that emanated from Cassian.  

He let out a relieved breath. “Yeah, I can show you, half of the party is outside.”  

Honestly, it was hard to picture how, since the weather was getting worse, but Cassian showed her the way, literally removing anyone from her path. His eyes rested on her closest hand and Nesta crossed her arms, keeping him from the torment of trying to grab her hand.  

The first thing she noticed was the steam; light, warm steam kissed her face, keeping it from freezing as she stepped outside after Cassian. She peered above his shoulder to take a look at whatever was going on, the screams and laughs and water splashes challenging the music to be louder.  

It was the biggest pool she’d ever seen in a real home, easily! Around thirty people were comfortably inside, drinking and smiling and waving to Cassian when they saw him.  

She moved carefully, her high heels unsure on the new stone floor, to stay away from the pool, aiming for the fancy chair placed beside it.  

“I think it’s about time to have someone throwing Cassian in the water.” A male’s voice called out, his voice the crash of waves on rocks. She spotted him, a man with dark skin and blonde hair, an uncommon combination that suited him very well. He caught Nesta’s look and smiled, cordially.  

“Anyone who tries to take me away from this woman’s side tonight is getting two hours more of training on Monday!” Cassian shouted back, his facial expression filled with amused challenge.  

Nesta felt her blood threatening to move to her face, the embarrassment at the notion that she was the woman almost enough to make her blush. She used the moment to drink the last sip of her soda, glad to have something to hide her face while the laughs echoed.  

“Power abuser!” The dark-skinned man yelled back and Cassian’s body quivered with his laugh.  

“I always end up soaked anyways.” He murmured when it finally faded, replaced by a satisfied smile, as if it was some big secret. He hid his hands in his jeans and letting her choose where to sit.  

Naturally, she rolled her eyes, even if the image of four broad guys appeared in her mind, holding Cassian by his arms and legs, swinging his body close to the pool border, smiles on their faces and Cassian’s. She used her hair to cover the half smile that appeared on her face as she sat in the lounge chair.  

“That was Tarquin.” Cassian told her, grabbing a random cup from a nearby table and sniffing its contents. “The blonde guy who was trying to set me on fire with his eyes is Varian, Tarquin’s cousin.” Cassian sat beside her, close enough to share his body heat. “He’s still pissed because I accidentally broke his arm once.”  

Nesta choked on her own saliva, her eyes had drifted to Varian while Cassian spoke, but now he had her complete attention.   “You broke his arm?” Her eyebrow moved up, an incredulous expression on her face.  

“Just once!” He gestured with one of his arms, in manner of explanation, almost spilling the beer he just got.   

The brunette just stared at him for a moment longer, gathering her control over her shocked facial muscles. Cassian sipped from his beer and, before it could get awkward, he started to tell the whole story, trying to show her all the reasons why it was _not_ his fault.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr as http://herpowerisdeath.tumblr.com/  
> Opinions are always welcomed <3


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